


Heartless Angel

by Dragon_MoonX



Category: Final Fantasy VI, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_MoonX/pseuds/Dragon_MoonX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellatrix survives the war, escaping in the arms of her heartless angel. She lives to fight again, as Voldemort falls and a new evil rises to consume the earth. </p><p>This is the story of two crazed magic users brought together by fate, who fell in love and went on to rule their newly created world of destruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

They wondered how she had survived, how she had managed to live through the battle of Hogwarts. What magic was able to protect her? How did she live through such a horrendous battle that had claimed the lives of hundreds of people?

As the clouds of black smoke began to clear, the ash and burning embers still falling like amber stars in the night sky, Bellatrix rose from the ruins, her body cloaked in rippling waves of azure flames.

She knew he would protect her. She knew that he would come.

She looked towards the darkened skies as she heard the sound of wings in the distance. As the sound grew louder, a wind came up over the hilltops, blowing cold like the frozen hand of death, sinking its claws into the ruins far below.

A smile spread across her face, the beating of his wings drawing closer, getting louder by the second. The flames parted as a driving wind spread throughout the grounds, pushing them back as his face appeared through the swirling torrents of smoke and ash.

Her heartless angel, her demon god. He had finally come to rescue her from the chaos and war.

Her body broken and bleeding, the last of the magic he'd used to protect her fading by the minute, she reached to take his hand, her fingers closing around his wrist as he lifted her into the air.

She rose with him, into the darkened skies, into the heavens high above. So close to the clouds, yet so very far away from the infinite paradise that awaited those whose hearts were not stained with evil. They could never reach those heights, for they were too wicked to pass beyond the gates. But in his arms she had no need for such treasures, for he was all she desired.

Kefka looked down at her, cradling her lovingly in his arms as they passed beyond the moon, the agonized cries of the dying and the wounded falling away as they rose towards the stars. She was just as twisted as he was, her mind decaying while her beauty still remained. She was his dark and dangerous queen. She was the only thing he cared about in this broken world other than himself.

"Don't fret, precious, I'm here," he softly whispered. "I'm here now, and you have nothing to worry about. You did well tonight. I'm proud of you, Bella."

She smiled up at him, the cruel features of his face illuminated in the pale light of the moon, his blond hair trailing out behind him on the wind. She knew he didn't offer praise so easily, and so it meant a lot to her to receive a compliment from him.

"Those fools," he muttered, glancing down at the earth far below. "Let them kill each other in their meaningless war. Let their tortured screams be the music that lulls you to sleep, my dear. For what need have we for such pitiful creatures when we can build a world all our own?"

"I don't want to sleep," Bellatrix said, gazing up into his darkened eyes, eyes like obsidian, black and cold without a trace of humanity within those soulless orbs. "There is still much work to be done. There will be survivors. We cannot allow them escape."

"You leave them to me, Bella. I will show them the error of their ways, that all is lost as the final hour of their inevitable destruction draws near. They will learn the hard way, that if they wish to cling to such foolish hopes and dreams, they will meet with nothing but sorrow and death."

She loved it when he spoke like that, the cold cruelty of his words making her pulse quicken beneath her pale skin.

"I will see to it that they pay with their lives for their ignorance," he said, now gazing out across the darkened skies beyond the horizon. "And when they lay bleeding at my feet, perhaps then they will see that their dreams are worthless, and that everything must eventually come to an end."

Bellatrix's eyes began to close, the sound of his voice soothing her into a peaceful slumber. She was exhausted from her time spent in battle. And when she awoke the next morning, the world she knew would be no more, for it would be consumed by the violent rage and vicious strength of her heartless angel.


	2. Chapter 2

When shadows fall and darkness casts its veil upon the earth, the world will wither and die, destroyed by the heartless angel while his dark queen sleeps. All is lost, no hope, no dreams, no lasting remnant of the light that was once the salvation of the earth.

Even now, as Bellatrix slipped away into the peaceful abyss of slumber, she thought she could still hear them screaming, counting bodies like sheep as she let her mind wander over the vast expanse of her dreams.

Her dreams showed her the world they would build together. When the tower rose towards the heavens, she would be there, standing beside him as they knelt at his feet, chanting his name in mindless unison beneath a sky that burned with the flames of Hell. The stars would fall, and a crimson hue would paint the horizon, like blood spilled across the earth and skies. They would call his name, they would worship her heartless angel.

She would sit beside him on the throne, a twisted smile on her lips as she watched them kneel before him. Those who refused would be slaughtered mercilessly, without regret or remorse. She would make sure they followed his orders, her wicked laughter filling the air as their blood poured in trailing streams upon the earth.

Her laughter, and his, that mad cackle that escaped his lips as he watched his victims die. He delighted in death and decay, in pain and suffering. He would laugh, putting his arm around her and smiling as he turned to her and said, "Remember darling, you can't spell 'slaughter' without 'laughter'."

Only her dreams would survive, as the dreams of others turned to dust, fading into nothingness on the wind. She would rule beside him, the queen in a new world.

"You are precious to me," said Kefka, wiping the blood off her cheek then licking his fingers clean. "So precious. You're the only one who understands, who sees the world for what it truly is, as a lost cause with nothing left in it worth saving."

"Nothing?" she murmured, barely hearing his words as sleep envelops her mind, her head resting against his chest as she slipped further into a world of dreams, where she can see the future that awaits them.

"Nothing, Bella, except you," he said, his voice echoing in her mind, passing through the barrier of sleep to softly whisper in her ear.

He brought her to the the Imperial Palace, taking her to a room in the back and placing her on a bed with royal blue sheets. She shifted slightly in her sleep, his name escaping her lips in a breath that spoke of her longing for him.

She was truly beautiful. His dark queen, a goddess in her own right, the likes of which none could compare. He held his hands over her, a pale white light flowing from his fingertips as he magically healed the wounds she sustained in battle. The light was absorbed into her body, restoring her strength and repairing the damage done to her during the war.

"Sleep, my queen," he said, as the light began to fade. "And when you awaken from your slumber, I will show you a world of my own design."

He turned and walked out onto one of the many balconies overlooking the world below. A warm wind was rising from the east, tugging at the feather in his hair as he looked towards the horizon. There were shades of pale crimson and dusty rose blending with the midnight blue and blackened hues, as the sun rose to wash away the night.

This would be the final dawn the world would ever see.

The earth began to tremble as Kefka raised his hands towards the sky, summoning the magic he had collected from the fallen espers and the Warring Triad, drawing it out and letting it course through his veins. He felt their powder pulsing in his heart, surging through his blood. He was a god, he was a demon, he was a heartless angel, and this world belonged to him.

Fragments of stones and heaping mounds of earth began to rise into the air. He summoned earth and stones, iron and steel, pulling them from the depths of the world below to build a tower all his own. He summoned the remains of ruined cities, bricks and wood, broken bits of plaster and shattered shards of glass, magically shaping it to form his tower of destruction.

The wind began to rise, ruffling the feathers on his wings. His laughter rose above the wind as violent tremors shook the earth.

He summoned machinery and great sheets of steel, drawing in the remains of Vector as the tower grew, and the efforts of his magic began to warp the world around him, swirling the earth into a pattern of spirals, with blades of grass and twisted boulders leaning in the direction of the newly created tower.

This was just a small example of how Kefka could twist the world, bending and shaping it, until the outer world matched the gnarled depths of his inner mind. And it was only the beginning, for his madness would soon spread throughout the land, like a plague upon the earth, until everything he touched reeked of his sickness, and the warm, ripe scent of death and decay flowed freely on the wind.

When the tower was complete, rising hundreds of feet into air, Kefka paused to admire his new creation. A smile spread across his lips. His tower was complete, but his work was far from done, for he would need beasts, great demons from Hell and monsters born of the flames of destruction, to guard the tower and the precious treasure that lie within.

He began by summoning dragons, calling them to him as the earth began to shake once more. The first that came had bodies like serpents, Fiend Dragons, with scales of bronze, manes of silver, and eyes that gleamed like garnets. Next came the Golden Dragon, his footsteps thundering across the earth as lightning followed in his wake. The Skull Dragon came last, his twisted, skeletal form burrowing through the earth at great speeds, as he and his fellow dragons raced towards to tower.

The Skull Dragon burst from the ground, a thunderous roar escaping his massive jaws, his claws scraping at the rocks and debris that littered the ground for miles. As he crawled out of the cavernous hole left behind in the earth, lightning forked and flared in the sky, as the Golden Dragon's cries rent the air like thunder.

They were coming, two of the eight dragons of legend, surrounded by a plethora of monstrous beasts, all howling and screeching in a cacophony of wild, ominous cries. Great behemoths, primeval dragons, and Vector chimeras, all joining at the base of the tower as Kefka's wicked laughter filled the air.

The Warring Triad joined the herd of ferocious beasts and dragons, for they too were under his control. They stationed themselves at various points along the paths within the tower, ready to unleash their wrath upon all who trespassed within the halls of Kefka's tower.

Kefka laughed, watching as the creatures he'd summoned swarmed the tower. Bellatrix would be safe here, as he left to claim the world for his own. They would protect her, following his commands and keeping watch over her while she slept.

The skies were growing dark once more, as bruised and blackened clouds filled the skies. The earth shuddered beneath his feet, as though it were able to sense the approaching cataclysm. The delicate balance that once held together the fabric of the world had begun to crumble, with earthquakes and fire consuming the land.

But here in his tower she would be safe, untouched by the horrors brought to life by Kefka's nightmarish creations. He took one last look at the tower, then rose into the air, heading back to the ruins of Hogwarts. He would finish their war for them, then let his wrath cloak the earth in everlasting darkness, as he became the god of this new world.


	3. Chapter 3

Bellatrix awoke to find a small, lizard-like creature crawling across her bed. It looked like a tiny dragon, with red scales and small, white spikes protruding in rows down its head and back. This creature was a Vector Lythos, a type of dragon that had been called in by Kefka, and was now perched upon the foot of the bed, gazing up at her with large, bright green eyes.

The Vector Lythos cocked its head to the side, studying her as she sat up in bed. It opened its mouth, emitting a low, chirping noise as it took a step closer.

"What are you staring at, you pathetic excuse for a dragon?" Bellatrix snapped. She swatted at the little dragon, causing it to shriek and scampter off the bed. The Vector Lythos hit the floor running, and dove behind the foot of the bed.

When Bellatrix peered over the foot of the bed, she saw four of the tiny dragons huddled together in a cluster on the floor, blinking their wide eyes and staring up at her, watching her with uncertainty and fear.

Bellatirx laughed. She leaned over the foot of the bed, a sly grin spreading across her face. Kefka couldn't possibly have left these terrified lizards to guard her. Surely he had better creatures he could call upon than this. Or perhaps they were just curious, and had come to investigate the stranger in their master's domain.

She bent down until she was almost eye level with the huddled mass of trembling dragons. The Vector Lythos froze, watching her intently. Her grin blossomed into a wicked smile.

"Boo."

The Vector Lythos started and ran, scrambling over each other as they fled the room. These little creatures were amusing, and it delighted her to see them running in fear, squeaking and chirping as they disappeared down the hall.

Once the dragons had left, Bellatrix gazed around the room, taking in her surroundings. She'd been here before, during the time when Emperor Gesthal was attempting to negotiate with the Returners after the espers had destroyed much of Vector.

Kefka had been imprisoned by Emperor Gesthal after the fall of Vector, but only Bellatrix saw his imprisonment for what it really was. She knew it was an elaborate rouse to earn the Returners' trust, for she had been in on it all along.

Bellatrix and Kefka had been working together in secret for longer than anyone realized. It was Bellatrix who provided Kefka with the poison he used to kill hundreds of innocent people in Doma. They were together when the inhabitants of Doma fell from the battlements, laughing as they heard the agonized cries of death and despair fill the air around them.

"How marvelous!" said Kefka. "Nothing can beat the sweet music of hundreds of voices screaming in unison!" He then turned to Bellatrix and added, "You, my darling, are a rare find indeed. None of these fools have what it takes to murder an entire kingdom. That one," he pointed to General Leo, "is especially weak. He's nothing but a coward, too afraid to fight or get blood on his hands."

"I don't mind having blood on my hands," Bellatrix crooned, her fingers reaching for the red and yellow ruff around his neck, toying with the fabric as she smiled at him. "It's so exciting, the way their bodies writhe in the throes of death. Just watching them squirm is enough to light a fire under my cauldron, Kefka."

Kefka's bright red lips parted in a wide grin. She tugged on his collar, pulling him down onto the hot desert sands behind the cover of one of the tents set up along the riverbank.

He embraced her in the sands, his hands roaming over every inch of her body, his painted lips trailing kisses down her neck. No one heard her cries of pleasure, for her moans were drowned out by the dying screams of the inhabitants of Doma. He had just reached beneath her dress when he heard someone call his name.

"Dammit!" Kefka hissed, poking his head around the side of the tent. His makeup was smudged, and the colorful feather that he kept tucked into his poytail was bent at an odd angle. "What the hell do you want?" he shouted angrily at the soldier who was running down the hill towards him.

"Sir, we're being attacked!" the soldier cried. "One of the inhabitants of the castle surived, and has launched an attack on our camp, sir!"

"Oh, it figures. There's always one miserable little wretch around to spoil the fun." Kefka ducked behind the tent, placing a kiss on Bellatrix's lips before swiftly departing the scene.

Their next close encounter came when Kefka had been imprisoned after the fall of Vector.

Kefka looked up as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching his cell door, and saw Bellatrix standing before the bars that separated them.

"Well hello. Fancy seeing you here, Bella. Have you come for dinner in the main hall? I hear the salmon is quite lovely this evening. Not that I would know, seeing as how none of those bastards have offered me any."

"You arse," she said playfully, knowing full well that he was joking with her about the food.

He smiled at her, rising from his cot and walking towards the cell door. "Well, if you aren't here for the food, darling, is there something else you came for? Perhaps you'd like a taste something that will leave you begging for a second helping." He raised an eyebrow, smirking at her as his fingers closed around the bars on the door.

Bellatrix chuckled. "Look at you, Kefka. You're an absolute mess." She reached through the bars and ran her fingers along a tear in the sleeve of his polka dot shirt.

"Yes, well, getting trampled by half a dozen espers will do that to you."

"What exactly are these espers I keep hearing everyone talking about?" Bellatrix asked. "Are they some sort of magical creature?"

"They are nothing more than a source of power for those who know how to use them properly," said Kefka. "You may see them as magical creatures, but to me they are tools I can use to access more powerful forms of magic. Though I suspect you may be familiar with some of them, for there are unicorns, fairies and phoenixes within the race of espers."

It was because of people like Kefka that the Ministry of Magic believed muggleborns were stealing magic from witches and wizards. They knew that there were those in their world who had obtained magic from an unknown source. And while most of them were in fact average muggleborn witches and wizards, there were a few like Kefka who didn't belong in their world, who had stolen magic from espers and learned how to use it in a variety of different ways.

"You mentioned having magic forced on you," said Bellatrix. "It was extracted from...from what exactly? An esper?"

Kefka nodded. "That is correct. I was the first Magitek Knight the empire created."

"What was it like? The experiment, I mean, that gave you magic." She was fascinated by the thought of infusing humans with magic, and often asked him questions about the origins of his magical abilties.

"I couldn't tell you, Bella," Kefka replied. "I have no memory of the experiment. I tried to remember, but it makes me dizzy...gives me a god awful migraine..." He paused, staring down at the floor as his mind began to stray from their conversation.

He could hear voices screaming, he could see flares of golden light, the light blinding him as a piercing pain penetrated the depths of his mind. He saw blood dripping from walls made of cold steel, and heard laughter echoing out of the black recesses of a long forgotten memory.

"I don't remember," he said slowly. "They said the experiment was a failure, which is probably why I was in such horrible shape when you found me."


	4. Chapter 4

The last thing he remembered was the sound of his own voice screaming before the world around him began to crumble into oblivion, pulling him down into a darkness that neither silenced his screams nor brought an end to his pain.

Kefka Palazzo had been subjected to countless experiments, each more painful than the last. He'd been strapped down and injected with a form of liquidized magicite, and exposed to a type of magical radiation treatment. He was examined and probed, and forced to watch the very fabric of his sanity waste away.

He lay in a half-unconscious stupor, blood trickling in warm rivlets from the corner of his mouth as he stared at the ceiling. He coughed, a fine mist of blood escaping his lungs, each breath tearing at his insides as though some unseen force were attempting to rip his lungs out. Blood leaked from his nostrils, spilled from his ears, staining the table he was strapped to with dark, crimson fluid.

"He isn't supposed to be bleeding from his ears... Check the read out... Something must be wrong..."

Kefka groaned, turning his head so that the blinding white light overhead wasn't shining directly in his eyes. He felt acidic bile rising in his throat, and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick. But even more troubling was the intense pain in his head that seemed to throb and pulse in time with his heart.

His heart, which was fluttering rapidly in his chest, screaming in pain along with his lungs, along with every nerve and muscle fiber in his body.

'What are they doing to me?' Kefka thought, that one idle question passing lazily in his mind only to slip away the instant it had formed. He couldn't hold on to coherent thoughts anymore, and as soon as the words strung together to form a sentence they were lost, never making it to his lips as he attempted to speak.

Was he speaking? He couldn't tell anymore. He doubted if he cared. Some noise, some feeble attempt at language managed to pass through his lips, and then he heard them again.

"Something went wrong... Unstable... Move him to the intensive care unit, now!"

A gurgling groan escaped his lips, his eyes rolling back in his head as the groan built into a scream. There was a sensation of heat burning in his chest. It was growing stronger. If he didn't release it it was going to consume him, destroy him, reducing his body to ash in the blink of an eye.

Ths straps broke... Kefka rose up off the table...

"Kefka, stop! What are you doing? Kefka!"

The last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was seeing the medic spontaneously burst into flames.

\---------------------

Exhausted and overwhelmed, Kefka stumbled out of his room, his heart still pounding in his chest, the palm of his right hand pressed against the wall in an attempt to steady himself so he didn't fall on his face. Sweat was beading on his brow, that horrible tightness still clutching his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.

He didn't remember where he was last night. He was starting to lose greater spans of time. He barely knew where he was right now.

"You will be great, Kefka," they told him. "The first of your kind." But the reports were in, and something had gone wrong with the experiment.

'This is the price I must pay for greatness?' he thought, moving slowly, carefully down the hall, glancing around every now and then to make sure he hadn't been seen leaving his room. 'I ought to kill them... I ought to destroy every last one of them for what they did to me...'

He stopped, one arm wrapped around his waist as he doubled over, the familiar feeling of acid rising into the back of his throat stopping him in his tracks.

He never used to entertain such thoughts, never used to sit down and plan how he was going to kill someone in great detail. But ever since the last experiment had gone awry, he often found himself consumed with thoughts of murder and death, of chaos and destruction.

He didn't know where these thoughts were coming from. All he knew was that he could not push them away. They were eating into his consciousness, devouring him whole, his every waking moment filled with hideous thoughts of torture, dismemberment, and death.

A low groan escaped his lips, his muscles spasming convulsively as he jerked his head forward, expelling a rancid mixture of blood and vomit onto the floor of the infirmary. If he didn't get out of here, if he didn't find a way to escape, these experiments were going to kill him.

His body trembling uncontrollably, Kefka sank to his knees on the floor. He had to remember. What was it he'd heard them talking about? Something about the discovery of another world while searching for a way back into the Esper World. If he could find this other world he would finally be free of these inhumane experiments.

'Free to plan their deaths,' he thought. 'They will die, all of them. If this is the power they have given me, if this is what I have become, then I will not let it go to waste. I will rule this world and everything in it. And those that oppose me will be made to suffer, until their lives become a rotting cesspool of agony and despair.'

\-----------------------

The next couple of hours passed in a faded blur, his body aching tremendously as he made his way out of Vector under the cover of darkness. They would come looking for him soon. He knew that they would be following him with Vector hounds, tracking his scent across the empty plains, for they said that he was dangerous, a threat to anyone he came in contact with.

'Dangerous,' the twisted voice inside his head said. 'They haven't the slightest idea what I'm capable of. But I'll be happy to give them a demonstration of my power, as I feed them their entrails on a silver platter.'

And then he saw it, the cave up ahead that had been roped off with a team of Imperial guards standing at the entrance. This was it. He was finally going to escape, he was finally going to be free.

"Hault! Who goes there?" one of the guards called out.

Spotlights shown down across the desert sands, illuminating the cruel features of Kefka Palazzo as he stood with a sadistic grin on his face. "Who goes there?" he echoed in a mocking tone, eyeing the guards on either side of him. "It's just little ole me. Nothing to be afraid of. Unless of course the thing you fear the most is death."

Before the guards had time to respond, an ear splitting scream tore from his lungs, and one by one the spotlights shattered, the bulbs exploding outwards in a shower of broken glass. Electricity crackled in the air, arcing in brilliant flares of green and gold. Kefka raised his hands towards the sky and summoned the lightning from the clouds.

Lightning rained down from the heavens, striking the guards and instantly killlig them where they stood. Unfortunately, his little show didn't go without notice, and miles away the soldiers that were tracking him saw the skies come alive with Kefka's display of magic.

"There he is!" one of the Imperial soliders shouted, the hounds on leashes barking and tugging on their chains in a vain attempt to free themselves. "Let's go! Everyone move out, now!"

Kefka fled into the caves, forcing himself to run though he could scarely breathe, his lungs screaming for oxygen as he entered the lower tunnels in the cave. He had almost made it to the sealed gate when he heard the dogs barking behind him.

And then he stopped. There was something blocking his path. This gate, it was not unlike the one which lead to the Esper World, and yet it was different somehow. He knew that, he could feel it as he ran his hands over the engraved symbols and runes that covered the sealed gate.

The dogs were getting closer, the voices getting louder. He hadn't counted on there being a gate blocking his path. And if he didn't figure out a way to open it, he would never escape into this new world he'd heard talk of back in Vector.

He turned to face the soldiers, rage building inside of him as the burning sensation returned to fill his chest with blazing heat. The air around him rippled in undulating waves of amber light as heat radiated off him, bathing the tunnels in an ethereal glow.

Kefka reared back, a blazing fireball flaring to life in his right hand. He'd kill them all, destroy them then figure out how to get past this blasted gate later. He was just about to unleash his attack when the ground below his feet began to tremble and shake.

The soldiers came to an abrupt stop, watching in amazement as the sealed gate slowly began to open. White light poured out onto the floor, and Kefka turned, gazing into the bright light and into a world beyond his own.

Only he could see it. The gate was opening just for him. It sensed the magic within him, reacting to it as though it were something familiar. Those without the gift of magic were not permitted to enter. Kefka was the only one with magic, and so the gate opened for him, allowing him to step into another world.

The light was growing stronger now as Kefka passed beyond the gate. The gate quickly closed behind him, preventing the others from following. He had escaped, he was finally free. Never again would he have to suffer though another experiment, or be forced to endure another round of injections that drove the magic they had pulled from the espers into his veins.

The light embraced him, surrounding him, filling him with a weightless sensation that made him feel as though he were flying. He closed his tired eyes, knowing he was nearing his destination, and let the light whisk him away into a faraway land.


	5. Chapter 5

The streets were alive with the sounds of screams, blood painted the walls and broken glass littered the floor, surrounding the pair of broken bodies that lie dead at her feet. She told them to have her order ready by three, and if they didn't listen there would be Hell to pay. Clearly these fools didn't know how to follow simple instructions. So she made sure they wouldn't be around to screw up anything else.

Her blond sister rolled her eyes, watching as she walked out of the building, the soles of her shoes crunching on broken glass as she trailed bloody footprints out the door. "Really, Bella, did you have to throw a tantrum over something as simple as a misplaced order of doughnuts?"

Bellatrix pursed her lips, looking thoroughly displeased with the situation. "Incompetent fools. I do not appreciate having my time wasted by such low life ignoramuses."

Narcissa sighed and shook her head.

Ever since the Dark Lord had taken control of the Ministry, the Death Eaters had been given free rein to do as they pleased, taking what they wanted and killing whoever they felt like. This meant that Bellatrix was now a ticking time bomb ready to explode at any given minute of the day. Add that to one of her unsatisfied cravings for sweets and you had a recipe for disaster.

They had just turned the corner and were about to head home when a sudden flash of light from a nearby alley drew their attention. Narcissa jumped back, bumping into and almost tripping over her older sibling as she was startled by the flash.

"What was that?" she asked, her eyes wide as she stared in the direction of the alley.

Bellatrix pushed her sister aside and began walking towards the alley, her wand drawn, half expecting to be attacked by some stray member of the Order or someone who supported their cause. She only made it a few steps before stopping, a dull red light spilling out from the alley as a dark figure emerged from the alley.

This man, with long blond hair trailing over his shoulders and cascading down his back, stepped out into the street, a mad glint shining in his eyes as he gazed around at the passerby who stopped to stare at him. He was dressed in loose, light blue pajamas, barefoot, with a robe hanging open at his sides.

Bellatrix stopped and stared, her eyes meeting his as he held her gaze for a moment suspended in time. He looked like an escaped mental patient, which is exactly what he was.

The was a slight pause before Kefka raised his right hand, and with a single flick of his wrist he sent the nearest passerby flying into the air, his helpless victim crashing through a storefront window to lie in a pool of their own blood, impaled upon broken shards of glass.

Bellatrix gasped, stunned by this man's violent outburst. She watched as he conjured a fireball, his robe billowing out behind him as he spun around, hurling the flaming sphere at the man across the street. His attack missed, and the building behind him erupted in flames, sending the people running, screaming, as they quickly fled the scene.

Laughing maniacally, Kefka conjured several rounds of flaming balls of fire, throwing them at the fleeing witches and wizards, one of them catching a woman in the back as she ran and setting her hair on fire. He laughed as he watched her burn, delighting in watching her suffer. It was then that Narcissa came forward, her wand pointed at Kefka, and fired a stunning spell in his direction.

Kefka was not expecting these people to know how to fight back, her spell catching him off guard and striking him in the side, kocking the wind out of him as he fell to the ground.

Narcissa gazed down at the fallen man, her sister beside her with a wide grin on her face. It was clear that Bellatrix was impressed with his violent display of power and his disregard for human life. She walked up to where he had fallen, watching as he twitched and groaned, and nudged him with the toe of her shoe.

"Who is this guy?" she asked her younger sister, grinning down at him like he was a prized stag and she was a hunter in search of a trophy to mount on her wall.

"I don't know," Narcissa replied. "But he's obviously out of his mind."

"I know," said Bellatrix, her grin widening into a broad smile. She didn't seem the least bit worried about this crazed mad man. To her he was a fascinating object, a toy, a new plaything which amused and delighted her.

She walked around him in a slow circle, studying him closely. "Where do you think he came from? Do you think he escaped from St. Mungo's? He looks like he did."

"Bella," Narcissa said with a frustrated sigh. "Will you leave him alone and quit poking at him? That man could be dangerous."

Hearing her sister say that made her laugh. "Not to me he isn't." It was then that Kefka's hand shot up off the ground, seizing her around the ankle.

His eyes blazing with wicked flames, his teeth ground together in a furious snarl, Kefka sent a jolt of electricity racing from his body into hers. The blast was enough to launch her into the air, her shoe coming off as she slipped out of his grasp and slammed into the side of a building.

"Bella!" Narcissa cried. She made to run towards her sister when Kefka turned, flinging a bolt of lightning at her and missing by inches, the lightning striking the ground at her feet and leaving behind a blackened scorch mark on the street.

"You!" Bellatrix growled, stumbling as she got to her feet, rising up to face the deranged man. "How dare you attack me?" she shouted. "Me, a witch of pureblood and noble descent! Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?!" She fired a hex at him, which he blocked with a hastily conjured shield of magical energy, sending her hex bouncing off and ricocheting through the wall of a nearby building.

"I don't care how pure your blood is," spat Kefka. "I just want to see it flowing freely through the streets."

The two of them then began a fierce battle in the street, with Bellatrix firing hexes and curses while Kefka conjured fire and lightning as thunder sounded in the skies above. But despite his strength and the ferocity of his attacks, Kefka was inexperienced in the art of magical combat. He'd never had to fight anyone like this before, and his body was still weak and exhausted from the experiments he'd been forced to suffer through.

There was also the issue with Kefka's magic draining away with every spell he cast. Unlike Bellatrix he didn't have a constant supply of magic at his disposal, and being new to using magic meant his energy levels were quite low.

Kefka stumbled and staggered backwards, his chest heaving as he fought to draw breath into his lungs. His sight was swimming, his vision blurred as the world around him began to spin. The ache in his head grew stronger, he couldn't remember what he was doing here. Where was he? How did he get here?

He saw flashes of light, he saw walls of fire rising up above him. There were memories, all torn and scattered across the vast expanse of his frail, shattered mind. The ground seemed to cave in beneath his feet, and he fell forward onto his hands and knees.

Kefka started to panic, his heart racing as he glanced wildly around at his surroundings, looking as though he'd just realized that he was no longer in his own world. He clutched his chest as a violent coughing fit overtook his weakened body, and blood began to pour from his mouth, dripping onto the street below.

"There's something wrong with him," Narcissa said, but her words were muffled by the sound of blood rushing in his ears, by the sound of his own heart beating as the pain in his head drove all other thoughts out of his mind.

With a low groan Kefka collapsed onto his side, his consciousness slipping away as the world around him faded into blackness. Bellatrix approached him, looking down at his unconscious form as he lay bleeding in the street. "What do we do with him?" her sister asked. To which Bellatrix replied, "We keep him, of course."

Narcissa stared at her, a look of incredulous horror on her face. "We are not taking him in, Bella." She already had her hands full with Bellatrix. She didn't need another insane magic wielding monster to look after.

"But I want him, Cissy," said Bellatrix. The eagerness in her voice sounded like an enthusiastic child who wanted to bring home a new puppy. "I've never seen anyone counter my spells like that. I think he would be an interesting toy to play with, don't you agree?"

She was smiling over her shoulder at her sister when she said that, and Narcissa knew it was pointless to argue with her. She knew what happened when her sister didn't get her way, and she'd already had her fill of death and destruction for the day.

"Fine," she said with a weary sigh. "But where are we taking him? We aren't taking him to Lucius' manor are we?" she added rather hesitantly, fearing what would happen if this man woke up and started dueling with her sister in her husband's house.

"No, we can't take him there," said Bellatrix as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We're taking him somewhere where he won't draw too much attention to himself if he blows up again, somewhere far away where no one would think to look for him."

"And where might that be?"

"Spinner's End."


	6. Chapter 6

The logic behind Bellatrix's reasoning was simple - this stranger looked as though he had escaped from the mental ward at St. Mungo's hospital, therefore people would soon come looking for him. And what better place to hide him then some out of the way muggle dump in the middle of a non-magical village?

Severus was busy teaching at Hogwarts, and Peter Pettigrew had gone off to run some errands for the Dark Lord, making Severus' old house at Spinner's End the perfect hiding place for a deranged magic user from another world.

Bellatrix lifted Kefka's unconscious body off the ground, her sister helping to hold him upright as they prepared to apparate. "Come on, Cissy. We have to hurry before this poor fool bleeds to death all over my dress."

Narcissa rolled her eyes. Just what were they getting themselves into?

They brought Kefka to Spinner's End, where Bellatrix unceremoniously dumped his bleeding body onto the bed in one of the spare bedrooms. She paid no attention to his muffled groans as he lay face down in a mound of pillows, and simply rolled him over onto his back without even trying to make him more comfortable.

A low moan escaped his lips as Kefka slowly began to come to, his chest burning, his head aching with such tremendous pain it was making him sick. The fingers on his left hand twitched, and his eyelids fluttered open, revealing tired, glassy blue eyes that stared up at the ceiling.

His vision was shrouded in darkness. He could neither see nor hear properly. There were voices, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Slowly, he turned his head, his vision clearing just enough that he could see a young woman kneeling on the floor beside the bed. She had what appeared to be a small suitcase that was filled with bottles containing different colored liquids. There was another woman standing beside her, older, with wild black hair that spilled down her neck and shoulders.

The older of the two women was leaning over the younger one's shoulder, looking down at the many bottles as the younger one talked. She then turned her head, looking at him when another pained moan drew her attention, and a wicked grin spread across her face.

"He's awake, Cissy," Bellatrix said, tapping her sibling on the shoulder to get her attention. "Look, look, he's awake!"

Kefka couldn't make out what she was saying, but judging by the sound of her voice she was excited about something.

'What am I doing here?' he thought, staring vacantly into space as warm blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth onto the pillow. 'Where am I? How did I get here?'

He wasn't even seeing them anymore, his vision slipping back into darkness as he suddenly remembered being in the Imperial palace. He saw flashes of memories, felt the desert sand beneath his feet, heard voices screaming as thunder roared and lightning flashed in the skies above.

His fingers twitched as he grit his teeth in pain, a scream building in his throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, arching his back off the mattress as electricity crackled in the air around him. He was then thrown into a violent seizure, his body writhing and convulsing as the last of his magical energy surged and pulsed within his veins.

His eyes opened unseeing, the whites bloodshot as the blue irises rolled this way and that. Bloody froth spilled from his lips, dripping down his chin and neck. The electrical energy mingled with the nerve impulses in his brain, causing an overload of energy, frying the inner workings of his mind as his own magic turned against him.

In one final moment the last fragile thread tying him to his sanity was torn in two, the fleeting memories of his time spent in Vector falling away, disintegrating as his world collapsed, plunging him down into darkness. From that point on he would be forever changed, twisted and shaped by the essence of magic that had been forced into him during the experiments he'd endured.

\------------------

Kefka was unconscious for the next several hours. Any effort to revive him failed, for whenever one of the two sisters tried using magic on him, he would wake up for a few seconds before lapsing back into unconsciousness.

During the brief moments that he was awake, Kefka was disoriented and confused, muttering incomprehensible nonsense beore passing out again. He had a raging fever, one that they could barely keep in check with the potions they gave him.

"Come on," Bellatrix muttered, frustrated by her patient's lack of cooperation as she tried to get him to drink some of the fever reducing potion before he passed out again. Her sister stood close by, watching anxiously as Bellatrix poured some of the sapphire blue liquid into his mouth.

He swallowed most of it, a few drops trickling from the corner of his mouth as he opened his eyes, gazing up at her through a haze of fever and confusion. For one brief moment his vision cleared, and he got a good look at her, hearing her voice as she glanced at her sister and spoke.

"Dammit, Cissy! Why won't he stay awake for longer than five seconds? He isn't going to die is he? I hate it when my pets die before I've had a chance to play with them."

"Who are you?" Kefka faintly murmured, his lips barely moving as he spoke.

Bellatrix gasped, her eyes widening as she looked down at him. She was surprised to hear him speak. She then have him a curious look and said, "You seriously don't know who I am?"

"No," Kefka groaned. "If I did, then why would I ask?"

Bellatrix and Narcissa looked at each other, then back down at Kefka. "What is your name?" Bellatrix asked.

"Kefka," he said slowly. "Kefka Palazzo."

"Kefka?" said Bellatrix. "What kind of name is that?" She turned to her sister, and started telling her what a peculiar man he was, how his magic was different, how his name was so bizarre. "Doesn't even have a wand on him. Probably doesn't even know how to use one, Cissy."

Those were the last words he heard before slipping back into the darkness that surrounded him.

\------------------

He awoke at half past three in the morning. The older of the two sisters was sitting beside the bed, her back against the wall as she watched him, waiting for him wake up. He could see her better this time. And as he looked at her, Kefka noticed the way her dark eyes gleamed in the candlelight, flashing with a sinister glow that reflected the blackness of her aura.

There was a darkness about her. No one couldn't notice it. It was like a shadow that fell before her, darker than the shadows that danced in the flickering candlelight, darker even than the skies at midnight. What she had was something different, eclipsing shadows, enveloping the night, drawing it in until she became the very essence of blackness itself.

She was a dark beauty, dangerous and strong, cold and cruel, just as harsh and unforgiving as the sands of time, as the cold winter winds that blew over the barren hills and wastelands in the abandoned corners of the world.

She looked at him, cocking her head to the side as she watched him with interest and curiosity, observing him, as though he were a fascinating specimen the likes of which she had never encountered before, which is exactly what he was.

He seemed more alert this time, and asked her for her name, to which she responded, "If you must know, my name is Bellatrix Lestrange."

Kefka stared at her, not knowing what to say to this stranger. He didn't remember how he got here, or any of the events that took place before leaving Vector. However he vaguely remembered fighting with this woman, and that she was able to use magic like he could. Except her magic was different somehow. She hadn't conjured fire and lightning in her hands the way he did. Her magic didn't seem to be of the elements at all. It was something different entirely.

"How is it that you can use magic?" Kefka asked.

"What kind of a stupid question is that?" Bellatrix snapped. "I was born with it, just like you were."

Kefka groaned, closing his eyes against the throbbing pain that was pulsing in his head. None of this made sense. He was supposed to be the only person who was capable of using magic. And then it started coming back to him. The desert, the guards he'd killed, the sealed gate to the other world. He had passed through the gate, arriving in an unknown world where he met her, the woman who fought back with a powder she should not have possessed.

He'd made it. He was free. But where was he?

He opened his eyes, gazing around at the flickering candles, the cobwebs in the corner, the tall bookshelves that rose towards the ceiling. There was something strange about this old house. He could almost sense the magic that filled the room, that saturated the air around him. It was vibrant and strong, it was alive in ways he'd never encountered in his world. It hadn't faded from existence, but had instead grown stronger with time.

This world was untouched by the War of the Magi. Magic was still pure and unspoiled by hideous acts of war. It flowed freely in these people as it had a thousand years ago, before the ancient war brought his world to its knees.

"Just where are you from?" Bellatrix asked, interrupting his train of thought. "You don't sound like you're from around here."

Despite his illness and the exhaustion that overwhelmed his weakened body, Kefka managed a small laugh, followed by a harsh, hacking cough that tore at his lungs like shards of glass scraping against an open wound. "No, dearie, I'm not," he rasped hoarsely. "But it doesn't matter where I'm from, because I'm not going back."

He looked at her, the mad glint returning to his eyes as a wicked smile spread across his face. His eyes, how they mirrored her own, alight with malicious intent and a unique brand of insanity known only to those who had suffered through the Empire's experiments.

Although they didn't know it at the time, they were perfect for each other. Kefka, a fallen angel, whose wings would one day cradle his dark queen, lifting her from the ashes as they escaped into the night. Together they would survive the coming war, they would fight back against the onslaught of the Returners, and use their combined magic to bring down all that stood in their way. But first, before they could do any of that, they had to learn how to survive each other.


	7. Chapter 7

The cold winter winds blew across the countryside, the dark skies and swirling clouds mirroring the internal conflict that was festering in Kefka's mind. He was tormented by thoughts of chaos and destruction, his thoughts racing as one brutal image after another passed through his mind, blurring the boundaries of conscious thought as he moved from waking dream to passing nightmare, each haunted thought more gruesome than the last.

Try as he might, he could not control these thoughts. Whenever he closed his eyes he saw nothing but violence and death. He saw rivers of blood running through the snow covered streets, washing over his feet where he stood amidst a pile of dismembered bodies.

He was cold, the falling snow mingling with flakes of ash as the flames from burning buildings lit the night sky. Slowly he turned, hearing screams echoing through the black winter night. He couldn't feel the heat from the fire, couldn't feel the burns on his hands. He looked down at his trembling hands, seeing burns tracing the sides of his fingers and blood trickling down his wrists where it dripped onto the frozen ground below.

This was all he could feel now, the freezing cold eating away at his insides, chilling him to the bone. He was numb from the cold, shivering in the frigid air as the screams grew louder, calling out to the heavens above, begging for mercy from a god that didn't exist.

There was no god in this ruined land. Only Kefka and his twisted fantasies. He looked to the skies, watching the blackened clouds swirl around him, and heard his name whispered on the wind.

'I will become the god of this world,' he thought. 'They will bow before me or they will crumble at my feet.'

The winds drove the falling snow and ash through the skeleton frames of burnt out buidings, calling his name like a hollow echo through the gaps in the clouds. It spoke to him, telling him to rise up claim this world as his own. The voices grew louder, drowning out the dying screams that surrounded him, and the images around him began to fade. The snow and blood drenched streets faded from his mind, and he awoke to find himself in bed, a damp washcloth draped across his forehead as he shivered beneath the ragged blankets that had been placed on the bed.

"I'd give anything to know what you're dreaming about," said Bellatrix, looking at him with interest as he opened his eyes. She was on her knees beside the bed, her arms folded across the mattress, her head cocked to the side as she watched him. He fascinated her, like a fly does a scholar of bugs.

That's all he was to her, a fascinating object, a toy in her endless sea of abandoned misfts. The only thing that separated him from the rest of her toys was that he knew how to play. She could see it in his eyes, eyes that shined with a darkness that mirrored her own. He wasn't like the others. There was something unique, something unusual that lingered just beneath the surface of his bright blue eyes.

Kefka looked at her, a tired sigh escaping his lips. "You aren't going to leave me alone, are you?"

Bellatrix smiled, the corners of her lips curling upwards in a twisted grin. "No, I'm not. I like where I am right now, and I see no reason to leave. You're not exactly in any position to tell me to leave anyway."

He glared at her, wondering why she kept looking at him like that, like some curious puppy eagerly awaiting its master's command. That's what she looked like, a poodle with black, curly hair, sitting beside its master's bed. It was getting on his nerves. He'd had enough of people staring at him, pointing fingers and whispering behind his back. Their eyes, the sound of pens scraping across papers strapped to clipboards, their murmured comments, all telling him he was insane, that he was slowly descending into madness.

It was their eyes he hated the most. He saw them when he closed his eyes, watching him, staring at him, a thousand eyes unblinking in the dark. He often dreamt of ripping their eyeballs from their sockets, the raw strips of bleeding flesh dangling from his pale fingers like morbid banners of decay, rotting in the pale sunlight as the sun pierced the clouds.

'They will bow before me or they will crumble at my feet. And all who serve me will feast upon the eyes of the slain...'

Kefka sat up in bed. "I have to get out of here," he muttered, more to himself than to the witch beside him. He'd had enough of being treated like some science experiment gone wrong. It was time to leave, to escape the world of staring eyes and whispering voices.

He shoved the covers aside and got out of bed, then stopped when he felt Bellatrix's hand close around his arm.

"And where do you think you're going?" she asked, her dark eyes narrowing as she glared at him, pulling him closer until they were nose to nose in the dimly lit room, the flickering candles casting ominous shadows across her face. "Did I give you permission to leave?" Bellatrix hissed.

"I don't need your permission to leave," Kefka spat, his gaze never faltering for a second, never leaving her face as he spoke. "And I don't need you to babysit me. I've wasted enough of my time in this moldy dump. I'm leaving before the smell of this place makes me ill."

"You set one foot outside that door and every Auror within a fifteen mile radius will be on you within a matter of minutes. I'm sure they're looking for you after the damage you caused in Diagon Alley last week. You'd be better off staying here. Unless you want to go back to wherever it is you escaped from."

"Auror?" Kefka was confused by her words. "Young lady, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

To be honest, Kefka didn't understand a lot of things. He didn't know why she needed a stick to perform magic, or why the potions she fed him during his recovery didn't work the way potions did in his world. What he needed was a good, strong elixir to restore his health and magical energy. But they didn't seem to exist in this world.

It baffled him, the way these people seemed to have an endless supply of magic while he did not. What sort of technique had they discovered that gave them limitless power? He started thinking that if he wanted to become the god of this new world, he needed a way to tap into that sort of limitless energy.

Bellatrix cocked her head to the side, giving him a deeply confused look. "You don't know what I'm talking about? How is it that you know how to use magic, and yet you don't know what an Auror is?"

"I couldn't care less about who or what they are," he said, jerking his arm out of her grasp. "I don't give a damn about the people in this world. Especially not if they're anything like the people where I came from. I'll kill anyone who gets in my way. So you'd better keep your distance if you know what's good for you, woman."

Bellatrix stood there and watched as he walked out and slammed the door in her face. She huffed out an irritated sigh, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She knew she shouldn't go after him. What did it matter if he got himself killed out there? And yet she couldn't let her plaything just walk away from her like that. She had to go after him.

\--------------

Kefka's first thought as he left Spinner's End was figuring out where these people got their magic. Perhaps there was a power source, something like the Espers they'd been using to gain their magical abilities. If such a source existed, then it must be superior to his own, and he couldn't allow that. He would discover the source of their magic and steal it, making it his own.

If magic was a choice, if it was an option available to these people, he would simply remove the option once he found a way to obtain the kind of magic they had, then kill anyone who stood in his way of world domination. It seemed simple enough. Though he had to admit he wasn't exactly sure if his plan would work, for he didn't know how magic worked here. And until he found a way to restore his magic when it started running low, he would be vulnerable whenever he ran low on energy.

'How is this possible?' he thought, as he made his way down the street towards the open field beyond the rows of houses that rose up on either side of him. 'How could someone have an endless supply of magic at their disposal? Are they siphoning it from the gods themselves? Is there some lost remnant of the Warring Triad that exists here? Something more powerful than Espers, something without limitation that lets them use magic freely?'

But that didn't offer much of an explanation, for even the Warring Triad had limitations on their power. It just seemed like they would never run out because of the overwhelming strength they possessed. And the Warring Triad had been dormant for centuries. There was no way to awaken one of them without disturbing the others.

Kefka paused, stopping on the outskirts of the neighborhood and looking around to make sure the cost was clear before continuing. The snow was falling around him, and he was shivering from the cold. There didn't seem to be anyone around, so he stopped for a minute and rubbed his hands together, trying to generate some heat that he could then channel through the rest of his body to get warm.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the heat that was building inside of him. He imagined a fire, the sound of the crackling flames, the embers rising towards the sky, and felt a gentle warmth spreading from his hands along the length of his arms. He continued pushing the energy outwards, through his chest and torso right down to the tips of his toes until he was warm again.

He took a deep breath, his palms pressed together as he felt the warmth spreading throughout his body. It wasn't much, but it would keep him from freezing until he reached the nearest town. He needed to find someplace with a decent amount of people, people he could study while he searched for the source of their magic. But as he made his way across the field towards the town on the distant hillside, a bright flare of red light struck the ground at his feet, melting a hole in the snow that covered the frozen ground.

"Stay where you are!" a voice called out. "Don't move!"

Moments later a group of four wizards materialized around him, wands drawn as they surrounded him. These must be the Aurors Bellatrix mentioned. But if they thought he was going to come quietly they were sorely mistaken.

Before the wizards had time to react, the mage conjured a chain of lightning that forked from his fingertips and struck the wizard directly in front of him. The electricity flowed from one target to the next, creating a sparking chain of golden energy that coursed through their bodies, illuminating the predawn skies as a ring of crackling electricity filled the air around him.

He knew it would cost him a great deal of energy to strike them all at once, but he didn't have a choice. This was the only way he could stop them long enough for him to escape.

All four of them collapsed to the ground, stunned but still alive and breathing. When the first wizard stood up and began making a motion with his wand as he prepared to hex the mage into submission, the incantation died in his throat as he felt a sharp pain pierce his abdomen. He froze, looking down at the silver blade protruding from his belly. Apparently Kefka had other ways to fight back that didn't include the use of magic.

Kefka was a Magitek Knight, and had been taught how to use various weapons. He knew that in a situation where his magic was limited and his foes outnumbered him, it was better to conserve his magic, using it only when it was absolutely necessary.

The mage grinned, a sickening smile spreading across his face as he slit the wizard's belly open. He laughed as he felt the warm blood cascading down the length of his arm and dripping into the snow. These people were used to dueling with magical opponents. They weren't expecting him to have another means of defending himself. However now that they were aware of his weapon of choice, it wouldn't be so easy for him to catch them off guard again.

Kefka withdrew his dagger from the wizard's stomach, watching as his victim's entrails spilled out onto the ground. The wizard doubled over, holding his stomach before collapsing in a pool of his own blood. Kefka then licked the blood off his dagger and said, "Anyone else want a piece of me?"

This time the hexes came flying at him all at once, exploding in a shower of sparks as Kefka shielded himself from their magic, blocking their spells and reflecting the energy back at them. One of the wizards was sent airborne from the force of the explosion as his magic rebounded back at him. Another fell when Kefka spun around and threw his dagger at him, the blade piercing the side of his neck and severing his jugular vein.

Blood spurted nearly a foot in the air as the wizard grabbed his throat, his last words escaping in a gurgling groan as he fell to the ground at Kefka's feet. The mage was just about conjure another round of lightning when he was knocked off his feet by a jet of red light. He didn't know what was in the spell that hit him, but it was enough to knock the wind out of him and leave him twitching on his side in the snow.

The mage tried to stand, his muscles twitching as the strength went out of his limbs. He gasped and seized up on his side, his body paralyzed from the hex they'd used on him. Within seconds the two remaining wizards had surrounded him, the one on the left keeping his wand aimed at him as the mage lay helpless on the ground.

The situation was looking grim, and Kefka wasn't sure how he was going to escape. He was a skilled fighter, but up until now he hadn't fought anyone other than Bellatrix who had magic. And aside from a handful of violent outbursts in which he lost control of his magic, he had little practice beyond conjuring fire and electricity and using warming charms.

There was a moment of hesitation before one of the wizards bent down, seized him by the back of the pale blue robe he was wearing, and hauled him up onto his feet. The wizard who was holding him upright glanced back at his fallen friend, then looked at Kefka and said, "Where's his wand?"

The other wizard shook his head. "Don't know. I've never even seen someone use wandless magic like that."

"Where's your wand?" the first wizard asked.

Kefka gave him an innocent look and said, "I shoved it up your ass. Don't you remember?"

"You insolent bastard!" the first wizard shouted, the deranged mage laughing at the wizard's reaction. He was just about to hex the mage a second time when a brilliant flash of green light lit the area, and the wizard fell the ground dead.

Kefka slid from the dead man's grasp and collapsed onto the snow, his limbs still partially paralyzed from the stunning spell. He then looked up and saw Bellatrix standing several yards away, twirling her wand in her fingers.

"What did you do to him?" Kefka asked, looking at the blank stare on the wizard's face.

"I killed him," Bellatrix replied, speaking as though she were discussing casual arrangements for afternoon tea. She aimed her wand at the one remaining wizard. "He's with me. And unless you want to spend your holiday as a bloated corpse rotting in the noonday sun, I suggest you leave before I flay your hide to dollrags and shove them in your friend's belly."

The wizard took a step back, trembling with fright at the sight of the mad witch in front of him. He quickly disapparated, fleeing for his life before Bellatrix decided to finish him off as well. Once he was gone, Bellatrix went over to where Kefka was lying in the snow and lifted the stunning spell so he could move again.

Kefka sat up slowly. He looked over at the wizard she had killed, noticing that there were no marks or blemishes on his skin, and yet he wasn't moving, his eyes staring at the grey skies above. He'd heard of magic that could cause instant death if used properly, but he had never seen it used before. And for her to use it without hesitation left him sitting there with a look of incredulous disbelief on his face.

He prodded the wizard's body with his finger. "You killed him. You actually killed him!"

"What of it?" Bellatrix snapped. "Be grateful I was here to save your sorry hide from those Aurors." She then bent down and pulled the dagger from the wizard's throat. "I believe this belongs to you," she said, holding the dagger out to him.

Kefka took the dagger and wiped it off on the snow before tucking it into the sleeve of his robe.

"How do you keep that from falling out of your sleeve?" Bellatrix asked.

"You really want to know?" Kefka rolled up his left sleeve and showed her the hospital bracelet around his wrist. He had pushed the bracelet up his arm so that it was tight against his skin, the dagger tucked underneath the bracelet, holding it in place so it wouldn't slip out of his sleeve. "I always keep a weapon or two on me in case I need to slit someone's throat."

Bellatrix knelt down beside him in the snow. She held his wrist, turning it so she could read the writing on the bracelet. "It says you're an experimental magic test patient at the Magitek Research Facility Hospital."

Kefka's expression darkened. He suddenly looked much older than a man of thirty-five, and yet his eyes were still just as bright as they were sixteen years ago when this twisted experiment began. They may have broken him mentally, but physically he was stronger than ever before, his magic and his strength growing with each passing day.

"Magic comes with a price in my world," he said. "I don't know what it was like for you, but my experience was far from pleasant. Every ounce of magic that was forced into my veins was put there in the most cruel and inhumane way imaginable. But I have learned from my experience. It has made me stronger. And now that I know how to inflict true pain and suffering upon others, now that I know what it feels like, I can use what I have been given to take control of this world."

Bellatrix was silent, considering him for a moment before standing and offering him her hand. A smile creased the corners of his lips as he took her hand, allowing her to help him up onto his feet.

This was the beginning of a dark union, as two of the world's most corrupt villains united in what could only be described as a match made in Hell. This wasn't the love that would later bloom between them. It was a partnership, an unspoken bond that would hold them together until the black flower of their love blossomed with time, spreading its petals and turning its face towards the sky as the world around it withered under the last embers of a dying sun.


	8. Chapter 8

When it was discovered that Kefka had gone missing from the hospital, a call went out to the soldiers in the palace. Gestahl summoned Leo and Celes, sending them out in the dark of night to hunt him down, aided by several Imperial soldiers and a handful of Vector hounds. And while nearly everyone in the palace was panicking at the thought of the deranged mage on the loose in Vector, Gestahl decided to keep the news a secret from the public.

The public knew very little about Kefka's medical history. They were aware of his demotion after he'd suffered a nervous breakdown three years ago, and were told that he'd been suffering from some sort of illness that required hospitalization while they worked to stabilize his condition. The empire quietly swept the issue under the rug, and the mage wasn't seen or heard for several months.

When he returned a year after his breakdown, the Kefka Palazzo that emerged from the halls of Vector wasn't the same man they remembered. Leo would never forget the day Kefka opened the palace doors and walked out wearing many layers of colorful scarves, feathers, fabrics and beads. He was carrying a doll, and was in the process of brushing its hair as he walked out the door.

The mage was too absorbed in grooming his doll to notice the people that were staring at him. He kept walking, his head down as he muttered to himself and worked on brushing a knot out of his doll's hair. When Leo spoke his name, Kefka's head snapped up so quickly the General wondered how he didn't give himself whiplash. It was then that he noticed the makeup on Kefka's face, as well as his dangling earrings and the red polish on his fingernails.

"What?" Kefka snapped, glaring at him.

Leo was so shocked by Kefka's appearance that he held his hands up in front of him and began slowly backing away. "It's nothing," he said, his voice failing him as he was rendered speechless.

Kefka raised an eyebrow, studying him closely before returning to his doll. He continued on his way, still talking to himself. Or maybe he was talking to his doll.

It was a day no one would forget, as Emperor Gestahl addressed the crowd, his Generals on either side of him with the clownish mage sitting off to the side, playing with his doll and brushing its hair. Every now and then he'd lift his head, glancing at the people in the crowd and shooting them nasty looks.

Nothing was said about Kefka's return after he'd vanished a year ago. The public didn't need to know that the empire was harboring a mad man who was capable of destroying everything within a five hundred mile radius. He could conjure fire and wield lightning, and had slaughtered dozens of soldiers during his nervous breakdown. And now that this monster had escaped, it was only a matter of time before he went on another mindless killing spree.

"Be on your guard, men!" Leo ordered. "Stay calm and remain alert. If you see Kefka, you are to report back to me or Celes at once. Do not approach him or attempt to bring him in yourself."

Celes glanced nervously at the soldiers as they spilled out of the empire and began to search the city. She motioned to Leo with a wave of her hand, calling him over as she begun a whispered conversation with him.

"Did you see the way Emperor Gestahl was behaving when we left? He seems more concerned with Kefka's well being than the damage he could cause."

Leo shook his head. "I know. But let's not discuss that here." He looked up as one of the soldiers requested permission to search the upper floors of the hospital and nodded, then lowered his voice and continued his conversation with Celes. "I don't think Kefka will get far, not in the shape he's in. If we're lucky, we should be able to locate him and have him back in his room before sunrise."

But while they were searching for him in an effort to protect the lives of those living in Vector, Kefka was fleeing for his life, trying to escape before the experiments they'd been performing on him killed him. He knew he had reached his limit and that his body couldn't take anymore. Both his mind and his body were wasting away to nothing. If he didn't leave now he would surely die.

When the hounds picked up his scent and began following him across the plains, it was Leo who had followed him down into the depths of the ancient cave, only to lose the mage seconds before he had him in his grasp.

He watched as the sealed gate opened, the ground shaking beneath his feet as a blinding light spilled out onto the ground. "Kefka!" he shouted over the noise of the barking dogs. But the mage didn't hear him. Leo ran forward, slipping and stumbling as the quake intensified, and seized hold of Kefka by the back of his robe. He tried to pull him back, but the gate slammed shut with a resounding bang, leaving the General standing there with a scrap of torn fabric in his hand.

When they returned to the palace with word of Kefka's escape, Emperor Gestahl was furious that they'd let him get away. He ordered a complete search of the cave, but his efforts were in vain as they were unable to figure out a way to open the gate. It wasn't until General Celes ventured into the cave with Leo that the door began to crack open as she approached it.

Leo and Celes froze, standing perfectly still as the walls began to vibrate, the air around them shimmering with minute flecks of dancing light. It felt like something in the earth beneath their feet was waking up, an ancient and unseen force that was beyond their comprehension, slowly moving, inch by inch as it clawed its way towards the surface.

The energy they felt was alive and responding to the magic flowing through Celes. It lunged and surged, coming alive at her touch as her fingertips brushed against the runes that were carved into the sealed gate. The texture of the stone, the subtle curves and shapes embedded in its surface spoke to her, telling stories of magic long forgotten, of foreign lands and exotic spells so unlike her own.

She felt a connection to the magic beyond the sealed gate, to the world just beyond their reach. It was calling to her, a thousand voices singing the same song, beckoning her to come forward and join them on the other side. The call was so powerful that she felt herself being pulled towards it, moving towards the light without even realizing what she was doing.

It was alluring, the sweet melody of the ancient voices calling to her from within the dazzling light. She took another step forward, and the gate cracked open. One more step and the gate opened wider. General Leo then grabbed her by the wrist, preventing her from going any further. And as soon as she stopped, the gate halted its movement, refusing to budge another inch.

Celes gasped, and suddenly her awareness was brought back to the present. It was as though she had drifted away from her own reality, her mind elsewhere while her body remained tethered to the physical plain, her spirit lingering somewhere in between, on the threshold of another realm.

"Are you alright?" Leo asked. "You were acting rather strange, Celes."

"I don't know," she said at length, slowly turning and looking back at him. There was a long pause, and then she whispered, "I saw it."

Her eyes were wide, her face illuminated by the light of the flashlight in Leo's hand. He could feel her trembling beneath his fingers, as though the magic within the ancient runes was resonating within her, combining with her own Esper fueled magic to form the key to the other world.

"I saw it," she said again, sounding breathless as though she had just finished running a marathon. "I saw it, Leo. There's a whole other world beyong this gate. Full of people and animals and...and magic! There's magic in that world!"

"How do you know there's magic, Celes?"

"I could feel it," she said, taking his hand in both of hers, a smile lighting her face as she felt excitement building inside her. "It isn't like mine, Leo. But I know there's magic there. And Kefka's there too, somewhere on the other side." She turned and looked back at the sealed gate. "He's out there, Leo. And I'm the only one who can find him."

Leo took a step back, his hand sliding out of her grasp as he walked towards the gate. He ran his fingers over the runes, studying them closely to see if he could figure out what they meant. But the gate was silent, its voice silenced by his touch, for he did not possess the gift of magic.

"It's not reacting to my touch," Leo mused, thinking aloud as Celes stood back and watched. "When you got near it, it started opening."

"Perhaps it reacts to magic and needs someone magical to open it. Maybe only those with magic are allowed to enter."

Leo took a step back, shining his flashlight on the sealed gate. "If that is true, then it means I can't follow you in there. But why do you think you're the only one who can go there? Terra is half-Esper and possesses a brand of magic not unlike your own."

Celes shook her head. "I don't think Emperor Gestahl would let her leave the palace. Not without Kefka barking orders at her. And her magic is mostly untested. I'm the only one suitable for the job."

Leo sighed, turning the light on her as he moved away from the gate. "Are you sure about this? If you go, we have no way of knowing if you'll be able to return." He suddenly realized that if Celes was unable to return, that might mean that they would be rid of Kefka once and for all, and the Emperor would be furious if he lost his precious mage.

"Let's go back to the palace," said Leo. "This needs to be discussed with the Emperor before any decisions are made."

\-------------

Kefka stood in front of the mirrior, admiring the fine assortment of dangling beads and multicolored fabrics he was wearing. It had taken a while for him to recreate his usual attire here in the wizarding world. But now that he was once again draped in a variety of brightly colored ploka dots and stripes, he was beginning to feel more like himself again.

He ran his fingers over the feathers in his hair, smoothing and preening them as though he were a chocobo preparing itself for a beauty pageant. He made sure his makeup was just right, adding a bit more red over his right eyebrow and touching up the white on his left cheek. He'd speant nearly an hour in front of the mirror, while Bellatrix sat on the foot of the bed watching him putting on makeup and tucking feathers in his hair.

The more she watched the more she became fascinated with him. He was a very strange individual, standing there humming to himself as he adjusted the ruff around his neck. He acted like he didn't have a care in the world, humming and prancing and thrilled by the sight of his own reflection.

"Mirrors are fascinating objects, don't you think?" he said, touching the glass with the tip of his index finger. He leaned forward, gazing fondly at his own reflection and giggling like an excited school girl. "If I had another mirror to reflect the image of myself in this one, and more mirrors to reflect those images, it would be like gazing at myself into infinity!"

Bellatrix rolled her eyes as Kefka waved his hand in front of the mirror, grinning as he watched his reflection move. "Why are you dressed like that?" she asked. "Don't you care about what people will think when they see you dressed like that?"

Kefka laughed and turned around so he could admire himself from the back. "I don't give a damn what anyone thinks," he said, fanning his cloak out behind him while gazing at his reflection over his shoulder.

She watched him for several minutes, her curiosity growing as he applied purple makeup to his lips. "Where exactly are you from?" she asked.

"Vector," he replied, answering her question without hesitation. "I lived in the Imperial Palace where I was surrounded by idiots and buffoons. The biggest idiot of them all was a man named Leo. He was strongly opposed to the idea of infusing humans with magic, and refused to undergo the same process I did."

"What process are you talking about?"

Kefka paused, halfway through painting the clownish smile on his face. A muscle above his left eye twitched, and suddenly he saw himself surrounded by smoke and fire, laughing as flames licked at the walls and people ran screaming from the room. The overhead lights burst as electricity crackled in the air around him, and those who couldn't make it out in time were struck with a bolt of lightning.

The memory passed in the blink of an eye, leaving him momentarily confused as he blinked and gazed at his reflection. The room he had been in looked like the main testing facility where they used to strap him down and give him intravenous doses of liquidized magicite. But Kefka didn't remember setting the room on fire, or leaping from the table and chasing down the medics, frying them with jolts of electricity as he ran down the hall. He didn't know if the memory was real. It was getting more and more difficult to remember his past as the details of the experiments began to slip away. The only thing he knew for sure was that trying to recall anything from the time before he met Bellatrix gave him a terrible headache.

"I was part of a project involving the infusion of Esper magic into human beings," he said, massaging his aching temples. He squeezed his eyes shut against the throbbing pain, gritting his teeth as another memory flashed before his eyes.

This time he saw himself sitting behind the Emperor as Gestahl addressed a crowd of people. He remembered looking at the people gathered there, thinking of gruesome ways in which they might die. How he hated them. He despised every last one of them. And it would give him great pleasure to watch them burn, burning as their last dying breath left them in tormented screams of agony.

He began fantasizing about death, about killing the people who were sitting there listening to Gestahl babbling on about who knows what. He tuned out the sound of Gestahl's voice, focusing on the people as he imagined skinning them alive and burning their corpses. He could see them lying there, a mass of twitching muscle in a pool of blood, their flesh torn from their body as the moaned and writhed, still clinging to life as pain consumed them until they begged for death, begged for the sweet relief of everlasting darkness.

A grin creased the corners of his lips, and suddenly his thoughts were interrupted when he heard the Emperor say his name. He looked up as Gestahl motioned towards him with a wave of his hand, announcing that Kefka had been appointed Court Mage. There was a scattered round of applause, as Kefka sat glaring at the people around him.

So this is why they brought him here, just to put him on display and act as though he was the Emperor's new pet, watching as he preformed feats of magic and tricks for the crowd. These pitiful fools had no idea what he was capable of. But he'd be glad to give them a demonstration.

When the memory ended, he found himself back in Spinner's End with Bellatrix standing behind him, her hands on his shoulders as he trembled and shook, his heart racing as he felt a sudden surge of magical energy coursing through his veins. When did he start shaking? How did he get here? It took him a moment to realize that Bellatrix was trying to keep him calm as he stood trembling in front of the mirror.

"What did they do to you?" Bellatrix asked. "Tell me."

There was no compassion in her voice. Only curiosity and a desire to learn.

"They used me," said Kefka, his lip curling in disgust. "They used me to create the ultimate weapon, a Magitek Knight, the first of my kind. I - " He broke off in mid sentence, his muscles spasming as his body tensed, and a jolt of electricity that surged from his body into hers shocked Bellatrix and thew her backwards across the room.

She hit the side of the bed and slid onto the floor, where she lay in a crumpled heap on her side. It took her a minute to recover from the shock, slowly easing herself into a sitting position at the foot of the bed. "What the bloody hell was that for?" she shouted. "Can't you control your magic?"

Kefka scoffed at the notion and laughed. "Self control is not something I strive for," he said, smirking as he looked down at her. "I have been infused with Esper magic. I can feel their life force racing through my veins. They are creatures with minds of their own, and they don't like being imprisoned in humans."

"Espers?" Bellatrix frowned, glaring at him as she sat on the floor. Her hair had frizzed out in all directions after being shocked by Kefka, and she wasn't happy with being blasted halfway across the room by this crazed magician. Under normal circumstances she would have cursed this freakish clown halfway into next week. But she held back, resisting the urge to curse him despite her growing anger and irritation.

"Are you daft?" Kefka spat in contempt.

"No, I'm not!" Bellatrix shot back, her temper flaring.

"Espers are magical creatures," he said, sighing with exasperation. "They are dragons, fairies, phoenix, and other such creatures. The empire developed a process that drains the magic from them and infuses it into human beings. Honestly woman, you have magic so I thought you would know about the existence of such creatures." He paused, fingering the ruff around his neck. "You do have magical creatures here, don't you?"

"Of course we do," said Bellatrix, getting to her feet and smoothing out the creases in her dress. "But we don't call them Espers. They are simply dragons and chimeras, not Espers or any other fancy term you can think of."

"Then this world isn't so different from my own." He turned back around, gazing at his reflection as he thought about what she said. There were Espers here, but people didn't appear to be using them the way they did in his world. Which meant that either these people were born with magic or they had obtained it through other means.

"So it's true then," said Bellatrix, realization dawning on her as she took a moment to process what he'd said. "Muggleborns really are stealing magic. Only they aren't stealing it from witches and wizards, they're stealing it from magical creatures." She spun around, her dark eyes blazing as she said, "You're nothing but a muggleborn, aren't you?"

"A what?" Now it was Kefka's turn to look confused.

"Muggleborn. It means someone who is born with magic whose parents are non-magical."

Kefka returned to putting on his makeup, completely ignoring Bellatrix's growing anger as he finished drawing the purple smile on his face. "I think I understand now," he said. "You aren't stupid, but you don't listen very well. I said I was the first of my kind. Magic hasn't existed in my world for a thousand years. It is something that faded from the world after the War of the Magi. There is no one outside of the empire who posseses the ability to use magic."

Bellatrix was at a loss for words as she listened to him explain about the War of the Magi, about Gestahl and how he discovered the entrance to the Esper world, and managed to bring back a handful of Espers and a girl who, according to Kefka, was half Esper and half human. This man wasn't from her world. He wasn't a muggleborn or a wizard, he wasn't born with magic and what magic he had was different from her own. She didn't know what to make of him. And while she found his story fascinating, it left her feeling baffled and confused. If he wasn't a wizard or a muggleborn, then what was he? What should she call this bizarre man, who was dressed in brightly colored clothing and wearing clown makeup?

"What are you?" she asked.

Kefka's lips formed a straight line, and he looked at her and said, "You poor, poor girl. You've no idea what to make of me." He reached in his pocket for the pair of earrings Bellatrix had given him, and put them on as he looked back at his reflection in the mirror. "I am Emperor Gestahl's Court Mage. I suppose you could call me a wizard if you really wanted to. But magicians in my world are different from yours."

"Mage." Bellatrix's anger was quickly dissolving as she sat down on the edge of the bed. She hadn't used the term mage before, but it was one she knew and could understand. At least it was a description that fit, one that could be used in place wizard to describe his abilities. "Why were you in the hospital?" she asked, and she saw his expression darken the moment the words left her mouth.

Kefka paused. "Do you want the long story or the condensed version?" he said dryly. He wasn't interested in recalling the horrific moments of his past, and would rather she changed the subject instead of asking him questions about the time he spent in the hospital. Though he supposed she was going to ask him about it eventually anyway. Having seen the hospital bracelet on his wrist, her curiosity was bound to get the better of her. And it was better to just tell her now and be done with it.

"Both versions," she said. "Tell me everything."

Kefka sighed heavily. "In short I had a nervous breakdown. Or at least that's what Gestahl told the general public. And while it was correct, it was far from being the whole story." He sat down beside her on the bed and continued speaking. "The process of infusing humans with magic is faulty at best, and was not perfected during my augmentation. There are those that say I'm mentally damaged because of the infusion. Not that they lived long enough to say much about it." He smirked, feeling quite pleased with himself as he remembered killing the soldiers who had laughed at him and his garish attire, calling him crazy and saying that he had lost his mind.

This caught Bellatrix's attention, and she asked him to tell her more.

The mage crossed his legs and looked up at the ceiling. "Well, let's see. I was hospitalized for three or four months following my nervous breakdown, then put under house arrest for nearly a year after destroying the northern half of the palace, and was released only for work related activities. I was also stripped of my title as General of the Imperial Army."

"You were general of an entire army?"

"Yes, I was," he said curtly, sounding bitter at the thought of losing everything he had worked so hard to achieve. "That is until Gestahl deemed me unfit to serve as general. Ever since then there have been moments where I've been hospitalized due to various violent outbursts and whatnot, though for much shorter periods of time. They tell me I'm quite ill, mainly due to the side effects of being infused with Esper magic. And yet they kept pushing me to absorb more and more magic. Not that I mind, mind you. Believe me, I take great pleasure in the fact that I can hold a person's life in the palm of my hand, and crush it if I feel inclined to do so. Though I resent the fact that I was locked away and punished for something they wanted me to do in the first place."

Bellatrix was silent, and Kefka cocked his head to the side as he studied her expression. He couldn't tell whether or not she was upset by the information he had revealed to her. The look on her face was that of astonishment and awe, mingled with a hint of pure and utter revulsion.

"What's wrong?" Kefka asked. "Does it bother you that I'm crazy?"

"No," she replied. "It doesn't bother me that you're crazy. It's you being crazier than me that makes me jealous."

The mage burst out laughing, falling over onto his back as he lay sprawled across the mattress. This was the first time anyone had ever said anything like that to him, and it thrilled him to no end hearing her say that she was jealous of his insanity.


End file.
